#and keep misdirecting it at people in arms length rather than the people on top? maybe... because theyre easier to reach?

[snekdood]

sometimes y gotta sit someone down. look them in the eye and go “does attacking me really solve your shitty life problems?”

[a-world-in-grey]

Sola/Blood of My Blood - Coming of Age II

@secret-engima part 2 of Sola trolling everyone, and the set up to the actual gala itself.

.

"Are you sure we're allowed to wear gold?"

Axis gives Tredd an exasperated look. "You're worrying about this now?"

"We're not Chiefs!"

Sola rolls her eyes, keeping her head still as Nyx threads dozens of jeweled pins - gold and tanzanite, Sola really needs to thank the Ornata for making them on such short notice - into her hair to keep the elaborate, flower shaped braids in place.

She's not the only one wearing gems in her hair tonight, even if she has by far the most. They've all swapped out their usual wooden beads for gemstone equivalents - and pearls, in Tredd and Sola's cases. Libertus' hair is braided in a reverse braid down the center of his head, tanzanite and green onyx lining the sides.

If Sola isn't allowed to wear a ponytail, neither is Libertus, dammit!

Luche smacks Tredd's hands away from his jacket lapels. "Stop pulling at it, you'll crease the fabric, and I'm not saving you if you ruin Penny's hard work."

Tredd freezes, then glowers at Libertus when her husband laughs. "You're just as scared of her as I am."

"I know better than ta piss her off." With good reason. Penelopeia gets stab-happy when irritated and some of her pins are long.

Luche sighs as he straightens out Tredd's outfit. "Black is the restricted color in Lucian high society. Only the royal family and their Retinues are allowed to wear it at formal functions."

Even then, Papa, Noctis, Sola, and Libertus are wearing sable; the specific shade of black restricted to the royal family themselves.

Nyx pauses in scrutinizing his handiwork. "What about the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard uniforms then?"

"Same as the Retinue." Sola explains and she carefully tests the security of her braids. "They've sworn service to the King, and wear black and silver to reflect that. I'm neither the ruling monarch nor the Crown Heir, so I and my Retinue wear gold as a cadet branch."

"You are His Highness' Sword." Axis notes thoughtfully. "You could wear silver."

She could. It would be appropriate in Galahdian culture too - of any position in the Retinue it would be the Sword most deserving of that particular color. But Sola's not attending as Noctis' Sword tonight. She's attending as Princess, as the daughter of the King and as such she's wearing gold as tradition dictates.

It's also why she's wearing a Pyre-cursed dress instead of a suit like the rest of Noctis' Retinue.

Don't get her wrong. It's a beautiful dress and Penelopeia earned every last yen making it. Sable silk with golden embroidery, high waisted with flowing skirts and no sleeves on account of it being the end of August.

Sola would still rather wear pants.

"Hang on," Tredd says, "why does the King wear gold then?"

Sola deadpans. "He's the King. He can wear whatever he damn well wants."

Who's going to tell the King no?

"Where are we meeting Prince Noctis?" Libertus asks, testing the draw of the knife tucked in the top of his hose. The small blades that are part of Galahdian formal wear are ceremonial, barely the length of Sola's hand span from tip to hilt, and so elegantly decorated Sola could hang them on her wall as art. Of course, being Galahdian, the blades are just as serviceable in combat as any of their primary arms.

They don't expect to need them tonight, but Galahdian sensibilities and Sola's current condition mean all of them are going to wear them anyway.

"At the doors to the banquet hall." Sola wishes she could wear a weapon herself, but there's nowhere she can hide one and still easily access it given her current outfit. Not being able to use her magic for the next several months is going to drive her nuts. “Noctis will enter first with Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto, and we’ll follow after.”

It will allow them to pull attention from Noctis, rather than Noctis’ arrival pulling attention from them. It’s even following protocol, thank the Six for small mercies, because while Sola’s held the position of Noctis’ Sword for nearly two decades now, without the bond Ignis, Gladio, and now Prompto have with Noctis, Sola is still technically a Wayward Sword.

A fact the Court has yet to realize, but Sola has no doubts some will figure it out tonight.

Another reason for announcing her marriage. Hopefully it’ll keep the idiots distracted. Because if anyone seriously tries to Court Noctis for the ‘open’ position in his Retinue, Sola knows her brother will leave them bleeding out on the floor.

Not, Sola muses wryly, that she’ll react much differently. For the best she doesn’t have access to her weapons then.

She’ll have to settle for gutting them with words. She can do that.

Libertus eyes the smile pulling at red painted lips. “You’re sure about keeping your brother in the dark?”

“Only until tomorrow.” Sola replies. “A surprise birthday gift.”

Noctis will have enough to handle as is, and Sola’s job tonight is to ease the load not add to it. She’d rather Noctis focus on getting through the gala and subsequent ceremony than worry over Sola not being able to use her magic.

He’ll do enough worrying over the next several months. Even though he knows full well that Sola is fine. It’s normal for female Lucis Caelums. Sure, Sola was hoping it wouldn’t happen for another couple days, but she’s adjusted since losing her magic yesterday and she has a full Retinue to protect her if anyone manages to get past Aunt Tiz and Uncle Cor’s security.

And even then, Sola is not so far along she can’t defend herself. She’s never needed weapons or magic to kill a man.

Luche snorts. “You just want to see how many people you can shock at once.”

“Well… yeah.” It’s funny. “I’m hoping to make Uncle Cor faint. Again.” She was there when Aunt Tiz announced her pregnancy and Uncle Cor dropped like a sack of wet cement. Highlight of Sola’s week and made taking over as acting-Captain during Aunt Tiz’s bed rest and maternity leave completely worth it.

Sola doubts Noctis or Ignis will faint, but she’s hoping to get Gladio. Papa is unlikely to pass out learning he’s to be a grandfather again, and Sola doubts nothing will shock Uncle Clarus as much as meeting the Triplets and then Axis in the span of fifteen minutes.

Prompto is proving to be increasingly unflappable, but the blonde at least plays along so Sola can expect a reaction from him even if it’s half-faked. At least one of her fellow Retinue finds her funny.

She’s even taken steps to make sure no one catches on early. None of the dishes tonight contain anything that will set off Sola’s nausea and she’s going to be avoiding all the wine served except for the bare minimum sips required at the beginning of each course. Libertus and Axis will be sitting on either side her, and are prepared for some misdirection to help fool everyone into thinking she’s drinking more than she actually is, and them having her magic means they won’t get as drunk as they would otherwise. Having her Retinue close by the entire night will help prevent anyone with magic sense the changes - and even then Sola knows it’s only because Noctis and Regis’ magic doesn’t give them the same level of sense Sola and Dyn’s gold magic affords them.

Her adorable nephew sensed the changes in Sola shortly after Sola herself, and has since been sworn to silence. Dyn is rather gleeful in being in on the secret and is quite looking forward to surprising his father.

Of course, the scamp’s glee means that Noctis knows there is a secret, but he is indulging Dyn and Sola’s fun.

A knock before Crowe opens the door and pokes her head in. “His Highness is on the move.”

Libertus offers Sola his arm. “That’s our cue.”

Sola gets to her feet and takes it. Her Retinue arranges themselves around them. Nyx at the front, Luche on the right at Libertus’ side, Tredd at her left, and Axis bringing up the rear.

Sola grins, and knows it’s all teeth.

“Show time.”

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

POI - Strange Magic

A few days ago, doing our weekly trip to Disney, @colonelcupquake and I discussed a few things about our d&d kids, and about all the ways in which their growing relationship is...growing. This is what spawned from me thinking too much about what that meant.

Set in current game time, while the idiots are helping our resident monk through house arrest. 2,200 words.

If asked, Val wouldn’t have been able to count high enough to number all of the moments that made her miss her parents most.

There had been plenty in the early years - after selling the wagon, and then the horses, every time she had made her own coffee, Gavaar’s heavy silence on a long travel road - but the newer ones didn’t seem to dig any less deeply. Dandelions still made her sigh; the sight of Amon bent over his alchemist’s kit still made her heart clench just a little too hard.

And she knew, so bitterly that it hurt, that at least her father would have known exactly what to do with Rona Greenbottle.

He had left her some notion of it, of course. His telling - and frequent retellings, at a younger Val’s incessent requests - of how he had met her mother carried the notes of romance so thickly that even she couldn’t have missed them. But Cairon Hillcrest had also been one of the lucky sort who hadn’t made himself the company of his lady love for the better part of a year, who didn’t spend a harrowingly frequent amount of that time dragging her into danger, and who had at least had the fucking decency to know more about her than her name, and her strength, and the bright, sunshine sweetness that had captured his attention in the first place.

Val glaced up over the top of the book she was not reading to where Rona was settled on the floor of their collective room, pawing through the pile of satchels around her with the keen slowness of someone who knew exactly what she was looking for. She pulled a tough looking stalk as thick as two fingers from one, and Val watched, enthralled, as she deftly slashed it open and stuffed a coffee bean inside.

Her staring must have been the weighty sort, because after a moment, Rona’s mouth curled into a smile.

“Yes?” she said without looking up. Val instinctively tucked back into her book, feeling a rush of heat up her neck.

“Nothing,” she said automatically. She stole a glance around her book’s edge and found Rona looking back out of the corner of her eye, grinning. The heat on her neck grew warmer. “I just, ah...I was just wondering what you were doing.”

“Just that?” Rona asked, with a pointed raise of an eyebrow. Val huffed.

“Well, I won’t say that I terribly mind the view either.”

Rona hummed in acknowledgment and turned back to her work, but Val noticed with a tiny thrill of delight that her cheeks had a much rosier tinge.

“They’re for spells,” Rona said at least. Her fingers worked carefully, now winding a thin piece of twine studded with apple seeds around a length of thorny vine. “You’ve seen me using them before, haven’t you?”

“Here and again,” said Val, as she set her book aside. No use hiding behind it now; and besides, she had only caught as much of Rona’s casting as the corner of her eye allowed. With her own recent foray into magic, it seemed of dire importance that she actually try to listen.

Not to mention that Rona seemed rather pleased at the attention; she straightened as Val leaned forward, and shifted to face her.

“I decided that I should start prepping some of my components early,” she said, nodding towards the vine clipping that she was turning over in her hands. “I used to do most of these on the fly, but I figure now that I’ve got to try to keep up with you, and Tara, and Amon…”

“Mostly him, I'm sure,” Val said with a wry smile. “I’ve just taken to making sure the red blur is still moving instead of trying to keep track of him.”

“Well, I'd still rather be fast enough that I don’t catch him in this.”

With one swift motion, Rona suddenly wrenched a hand sideways and tugged the vine taught around her palm, so tightly that Val could see the thorns digging little dents into the meat of it. A soft green glow began to pulse from between her fingers, coiling down the length of the vine, and before she could blink, Val suddenly found herself in the center of a mass of woody tendrils creeping over the edge of the bed towards her.

“Don't worry,” said Rona when Val instinctively scrambled back. She waved a hand, and the vines suddenly curled away like a receding wave, and then crumbled to dust. “I don't use those on people I like if I can help it. You know, unless they want me to.”

She winked at that, and grinned, and the heat that had started to fade on Val’s neck suddenly came roaring back to life. She managed to keep her face carefully neutral as she tucked that particular thought away for later perusal.

“So, that’s, uh, that’s how your magic works, is it?” she said after a moment, coughing delicately to disguise the hitch in her voice. “You just sort of stick things together and - ”

“Not quite.” The little laugh in Rona's voice staggered as she cut Val off, just a touch too sharply to be casual. “It’s a little more involved than that, actually.”

Frowning, Val stole a glance down, and the peculiar tightness at the corners of Rona’s smile suddenly brought the memory of the conversation in the mine - with Sarula’s arms still wrapped around Rona’s weary shoulders and a too-casual shrug from Ianry - screaming back like a train car.

“Oh, Rona,” she said softly. Rona didn’t look up, just pursed her lips and stared fixedly at the floor. “Rona, love, you know I don’t think that’s all you do, right? Look, I might be an idiot, but even I know it takes work to pull miracles out of your ass on a regular basis. I just don’t understand the shape of it, hey? And I...” She hesitated. “And I would like to, if you can stand a few more stupid questions.”

Rona said nothing for a long moment, turning the vine absently in one hand. Then she sighed, and wilted like a breath suddenly exhaled.

“I know,” she said softly. “Sorry. Here, come sit with me.”

Val thanked Fharlanghn later for the distinct lack of witnesses to the way she nearly fell over herself getting off of the bed, and Rona, for her part, kindly avoided snickering.

“It’s not miracles so much as knowing what you’re trying to do,” she said once Val had settled across from her, hands folded in her lap like an attentive school child. She twirled the vine in her hand so it arched over her knuckles and held it out, gesturing to the tiny auburn seeds still tangled in twine around its surface. “Seeds are a plant’s life: they’re the first thing it needs to grow. So if I want vines to suddenly start growing out of the ground, and to wrap themselves around someone...”

She slowly threaded the vine back around her palm and made a big show of pulling it taught. Val hummed.

“It’s like a tether, then,” she said, with tentative understanding. “It sort of...makes a path from you to what you’re trying to control, yeah?”

“Exactly,” said Rona, and Val warmed at the brightness in her smile. “The components of a spell are just the vessel that you pour your intent into. That’s what makes magic happen. Not just ‘sticking things together.’”

She shot Val a pointed look, and nudged her playfully with a toe when she winced.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Val grumbled, making a big show of huffing and folding her arms. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, much less anyone else. I wasn’t born with magic.”

“I wasn’t either,” said Rona. Val raised an eyebrow. “What? Most people aren’t. Some of us give up everything just to learn.”

The current of heat burning under the last few words was difficult to miss, as was the way Rona’s eyes strayed to the door that Ianry had left through barely ten minutes prior. Val said nothing for a long moment, then slowly shifted closer.

“Everything, huh?” she asked. Rona’s shoulders sagged.

“My family didn’t exactly approve of the whole ‘running off to go play with magic plants’ business,” she said quietly. “And once I decided to go after my mentor…”

She trailed off, shrugging, and Val found that she could only nod. The few words of comfort she had suddenly felt achingly hollow in her ears; how could she even pretend that she understood losing a family that way, which left behind a looming shadow of unknowns that only grew with distance? She thought of her father, and all of the moments she had spent missing him, and she held them tighter still.

Eventually though, after a long muster of silence, Val rolled onto her knees, pushed some of the satchels aside, and shuffled over to where Rona was leaned against the wall. She only hesitated a moment before pressing an arm against hers.

“I don’t think Ianry meant any harm by what he said,” she said finally, “but it wasn’t fair anyway. You’re...you’re amazing Rona, in a hundred more ways than just what you can do with some thread and vines, but because of that, too. You’ve clearly worked your ass off to be as good as you are. You know, occasional misdirected ice knives aside.”

That earned her a chuckle, small but genuine, and Val felt her heart quicken as Rona slid sideways along the wall and rested a shoulder back against hers.

“That probably won’t happen again,” she said, with a thin smile. Val grinned.

“Wouldn’t matter even if it did, love. Accidents happen to all of us. But that doesn’t change the fact that you could set the ground around me on fire, and I’d trust that you’d put it out before anyone got hurt. You’re a damn fine druid Rona, but I admire your dedication to doing right even more.”

“Me?” Rona sat forward with the reddening cheeks and sudden, righteous indignation of someone whose only response to a compliment was to return it. “What about you? I've spent the last few months watching you fling yourself between us and every kind of monster that Cinderfells can dream up. I expect that I’ll spend the next few months doing the same thing. You want to talk to me about dedication? Protecting people is so natural to you, a god came down to help you do it!” She huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “No one has ever thought to ask why I like you, Val. You know why? It's because they haven’t needed to. Knowing you makes the reason plain enough.”

This time, the heat surging upwards bypassed Val’s neck completely and shot straight to her ears, which felt suddenly like they matched Amon’s in their shade.

“Well,” she said, when sense and her full grasp of Common finally returned, “now that’s hardly fair. See, I was under the distinct impression that I was complimenting you.”

Rona’s lips curled into a wry smile, her cheeks their own delightful shade of rose. “Funny how a conversation works, huh?”

They both buckled into a laugh, and whatever coy hesitation had been putting distance between them suddenly vanished like a mist in morning sun. Rona sank further against Val’s arm once she had collected herself, and leaned her head onto her shoulder.

“I should clean all of this up,” she said after a moment, gesturing to the piled satchels around them. “With any luck, we’re not going to be needing to burn a bunch of spells in the next few days anyway.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Val, grinning. “We have a rather permanent history of getting ourselves into all manner of trouble. In fact, you might even need a whole other bag of…” She paused and grabbed the nearest satchel. “Acorns?”

Rona giggled. “I use those more for making friends with squirrels than for magic, if I’m honest.”

“Of course,” said Val, with a good-natured roll of her eyes as she let the satchel fall. “What I mean is, I still have plenty more stupid questions about magic, and I’m not so terrible at finding useful things in the woods. Mostly Sendran woods, to be fair, and mostly in the south, but I haven’t almost eaten poisonous berries since I was eight, which isn’t horrible when you think about it -”

“I was actually planning on gathering some things to bring Rosie back today,” Rona cut in, pulling away to grin up at her. “If you wanted to come along…?”

Val practically jumped to her feet, snatching her shield from where it was leaned against the bedside and slinging it onto her back. “Please. I’m already sick of this room, this inn and this whole bloody city. Let’s let it fend for itself for a little while, hey?”

“A date, then,” Rona agreed, grinning as she stood and then leaning forward to nudge Val with an elbow. “And maybe I’ll even let you hold the basket.”